Daydream Charm?
by mmcflyer
Summary: No longer a oneshot! Fred slips something into Hermione's tea that causes them to see each other in a new light. Mischief and lemons ensue
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: JKR owns everything relating to Harry Potter, I am just playing with her lovely characters!

"MERLIN'S BAGGY Y-FRONTS! GEORGE!"

Hearing that exclamation Hermione Granger whipped her head around, cutting off her conversation with Ginny, to see what the commotion was. She loosened her death grip on her wand when she saw that her best friend, Ron Weasley, had somehow gotten a fork stabbed in his hand as he and his brothers cleared the dishes from the Burrow's large kitchen table.

"Honestly Ron!" Mrs. Weasley and Hermione chorused together. Hermione felt heat rise in her cheeks as the whole Weasley clan looked back and forth between the two women. _Oh, bother! Ron's told me time and again that I'm not his mother, and here I am speaking in unison with the woman!_

"George, did you just _impale_ your brother, who has only just returned from doing who knows what, sacrificing his education, his health and everything for Harry so that _your world_ wouldn't be destroyed by the darkest wizard of ALL TIME?" Mrs. Weasley's voice got louder as she continued. When it seemed that she was about to start building up a nice head of steam, Mr. Weasley cut her off.

"Now Molly, it was an accident. Isn't that right son?"

"Uhh sure Dad" George grinned as he replied. "Well must be off, got a very successful business to go run now that Ronnie's saved the world. See you back at the flat Fred?"

Nodding his assent, Fred got up to hug his twin goodbye. From her spot next to the door, Hermione could have sworn she heard them whispering to each other.

"Man that was a close one"

"Oi, stabbing Ron though, well done mate, I'm going to have to try that one out myself sometime."

"Well as long as Mum doesn't get totally riled up. Are you sure you got it in Hermione's tea?"

"George, I'm wounded! You doubt my sneakifying abilities?"

"Of course not brother dearest, I was just caught up in the yelling."

"Oh ye of little faith! Now begone sir!"

"Gone oh wily one!"

A few hours later Hermione was lying on the second bed in Ginny's room, reading her favorite Muggle novel, _Sense and Sensibility_ for probably the twentieth time. Ginny was out on a "walk" with Harry, and probably wouldn't be back for an hour at least, so Hermione was happy to embrace the solitude. As she lay there she slowly stopped turning the pages and drifted off with the dulcet tones of Colonel Brandon whispering in her ear.

When her eyes fluttered open again, Hermione was surprised to find herself clad in beautiful light blue gown. It gathered under her bust in an Empire waist that accentuated the curves she had grown into over the last few years and flowed to her feet. She marveled at the incredible softness as it gracefully caressed her hips as she stood and walked across the room. Her hair was swept up, but a few soft wispy curls had escaped and framed her face.

Hermione paused at the window, and gazed into the distance, studying the hills that surrounded the Burrow. The colors of the sunset set the tips of the ancient oak trees on fire, and framed the girl in a halo of pink light.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," a husky voice whispered in her ear. Hermione shivered in delight and leaned back into the warm, male body that stood just inches behind her. His hands encircled her waist and closed the remaining distance between them. Hermione sighed, content. The couple stood by the arched window for a few minutes, studying the beauty of the landscape, and basking in the warmth of their companionship.

As the light streaming into the room gradually faded, Hermione felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere around her. The man behind her hadn't said anything beyond his initial greeting, but his hands were eloquent enough. As the last bit of the glow of the setting sun stole over the hills of Ottery St. Catchpole, his large, warm hands began to move ever so slightly. His left hand moved across her body to rest lightly on her right hip, in a semi embrace, and his right moved to her shoulder, tracing circles through the soft material of her gown. She could feel his warm breath on her temple, stirring the wisps that had escaped her chignon, and began to turn her face to meet his.

"No," he ordered softly. Hermione could feel the rumbling in his chest as he spoke that one word, and she acquiesced with none of her usual stubbornness, simply luxuriating in the feel of her companion's arms encircling her, and his broad, strong frame behind her.

"This moment is for you. Close your eyes, and just feel, no thinking, no analyzing, just sensation. Trust me."

Hermione nodded, intoxicated by his velvety voice as her eyes fluttered closed. She concentrated again on his hands, which had begun traveling torturously slowly around her. His right slowly slid closer to her neck, and when he reached the bare skin of her collarbone, she gasped. His touch felt like fire as he traced the delicate bone, and a corresponding fire began to build in the base of her stomach. Her head fell back onto his chest, and he took advantage of the unfettered access. That wicked hand found the neckline of her dress, dipping a finger under the fabric at her shoulder, and slowly followed the scooped line of soft, creamy skin at the top of her breasts.

"So soft," he whispered into her ear, his voice, or perhaps the tickle of his warm breath caused her to shiver yet again. His ran his left arm up from her hip until she felt his wrist brush the underside of her breast. He repeated the motion, running the back of his hand over her soft fullness. Hermione realized that she had been holding her breath and released it slowly, feeling her abdomen contract. Suddenly, his hands seemed to meet in the middle of their respective journeys, and she felt a burning heat as they cupped her breasts over the silk of her blue bodice. They squeezed gently, pressing the heavy globes together rhythmically, as his mouth found the place where her neck and shoulder met. He pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to the area, and Hermione's knees buckled.

He quickly caught her, and pulled her back, settling her, still facing away from him, in his lap as he sat in an old armchair by the window. Hermione felt what little breath she had leave her as she felt _him_ beneath her and stiffened, from fear or excitement, she didn't know.

"Relax," he purred into her ear as one of his hands again found her breast. He growled as he felt her tightened nipple, and proceeded to trace it with his fingers, encouraging it to pucker further. Her hands found his solid thighs. She felt him tense and flex his steely muscles at the contact.

"Decided to play, did we?"

Hermione nodded her head in agreement, only a gasp leaving her opened mouth. She slid her hands up and further behind her to the long muscles at the side of his chest, caressing the strength she found there. She simultaneously ground further into his lap, relishing in the feel of his length hardening even more with her movements.

His large hand suddenly dipped below the fabric of her dress, and Hermione sucked in her breath at the feel of his hot skin against her bare breast. His other hand reached down and began to slowly pull her full skirts up her legs. He tickled the back of her knee and ran one knuckle all the way up to her gently rounded hip. Then, his entire hand settled possessively across the front of her upper thigh, his long fingers just brushing the curls nestled between her legs.

The fire that had been building in her belly exploded at this touch, and Hermione felt a new, hollow sensation. She ached to be filled, and moaned softly in need. His fingers complied, stroking at her outer folds, already slick from his ministrations. Gently, he slipped one finger between them, tracing a line of fire from her most sensitive spot to her entrance, and back again. He lazily circled her nub, eliciting more moans and gasps from the woman writhing in his arms.

"Please, oh please," she breathed. He increased the pressure on both her nipple and the small knot between her legs and she shattered in his arms, crying out as colors exploded behind her eyes. She melted back into the man behind her, hardly noticing that his hands had left her body and were fumbling behind her.

Suddenly she felt a cool draft as he whipped her skirts up, leaving her backside bare against his equally bare thighs. Still unable to open her eyes she simply reveled in the sensation. He gripped her hips and lifted her, pushing her legs open so that she straddled him. He lowered her until she felt his arousal nudging her entrance. He slowly brought her down and they both groaned as he filled her.

Hermione had regained some of her strength and as he slid inch by inch into her she felt the fires rekindle. She lifted herself and pushed back down, enjoying the friction as their bodies moved together. He encouraged her, using his hands to guide and direct her movements, building the pressure and bringing them both close to the edge. With one last thrust, they both succumbed to the intense pleasure of their joining and fell back into the comforting embrace of the chair.

Humming with contentment, Hermione turned her head once more, looking to kiss her companion in thanks. His lips met hers in a soft kiss, and she turned her torso slightly as she opened her eyes and pulled away. With a soft smile she kissed the tip of his nose, murmuring "Thank you Fred, that was lovely," as she drifted back into slumber against his chest.

Hermione woke with a start and sat up so quickly that her book fell to the floor. She jumped out of bed and ran downstairs, yelling "FRED WEASLEY! I AM GOING TO MURDER YOU!!!!"


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Hermione raced down the stairs of the Burrow, murder in her eyes. "FRED! COME OUT AND FACE ME LIKE A MAN!" She skidded to a stop as she reached the kitchen, where a shocked looking Mrs. Weasley was in the middle of preparing her bedtime tea.

"Oh my, what have they done now, dear?" the older woman asked wearily. The war had been tough on Mrs. Weasley, leaving her a little grayer, but no less fierce in her love for her family. The twins however exhausted even her last resources of strength.

"Ummm, sorry Mrs. Weasley-"

"Molly, dear. I insist."

"Err, alright Molly. It seems that one of the twins slipped something into my food at dinner this evening. I would guess it was Fred due to the um, content of the daydream I had." Hermione could feel her cheeks heat up as she admitted the last part and desperately hoped Mrs. Weasley wouldn't press her further. All she really wanted to do was find that vile trickster and let him have it!

"Content?" Mrs. Weasley asked. Then she sighed theatrically. "Ahh me, I just don't think I can deal with their pranks tonight, poor old lady that I am. I must have used just the last bit of energy I had creating dinner. Be a dear and Floo on over to their flat and punish them for me would you?" She finished this little speech with a grin that would have done Ginny or one of the twins themselves proud.

"Oh Molly, anything to thank you for letting me stay with you this summer!" Hermione answered with a grin of her own. Mrs. Weasley condoning and even giving her permission to punish the twins? Excellent! She winked at the now laughing woman and headed over to the fireplace.

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!" She stepped into the green flames and whooshed out of sight.

Fred Weasley was a bit confused. Normally, when he and George created something they tested it on themselves until it was ready for production. In this case though, since they had only changed the original Daydream Charm spells a little they thought it would be ok. Really they had only added a little pinch of _Eros Amore_ potion to the existing recipe, it should only have made the dream a little steamier, not done anything to harm the person who took it. And since they had snuck the ground up pill into Hermione's tea at dinner and it was now almost ten at night there should have definitely been a reaction by now. Hermione would not just let something like a passionate daydream slide without punishment.

Unless, unless… Fred was struck by a sudden thought. Unless, the bookworm princess extraordinaire Hermione Granger had dreams like that on a regular basis! Blimey! Maybe beneath that massive brain and prim schoolgirl façade the lovely Miss Granger's imagination ran as wild as her hair. No, couldn't be. Not Hermione…

"Oi, Freddie! You need the hospital mate?"

"What, what are you talking about George?" Fred asked, unsettled by his thoughts.

"Well it appeared that you were thinking hard about something. Didn't want you to hurt yourself."

"Thanks for that George. I was thinking though. Shouldn't we have had some sort of reaction from Hermione by now? She drank the laced tea hours ago. I was just starting to worry seeing as we didn't do our usual product checks on this one. Could something have gone wrong with the added passion booster?"

"C'mon Fred. Nothing went wrong. She's probably just too embarrassed to face us after her experience of heretofore undiscovered pleasure. I mean have you ever met someone who screams virgin like Granger? She was too young for anything with Krum a few years back, and knowing ickle Ronnikins, I doubt he ever manned up enough to make a move. Plus they lived together in a tent for months, hunting pieces of old Moldywarts' soul. I doubt even our twinny charm could win a girl over after sharing an experience like that. Therefore, she's inexperienced and has to analyze what happened for hours before a confrontation. We're in the clear for tonight at least, probably forever. The worst I am preparing for is a very pink cheeked bookworm next time we go to the Burrow."

"If you say so…"

"I do. C'mon, Angie and Katie want to meet us at the Leaky for drinks, and who are the Weasley twins to deny two lovely ladies our company?" George grinned and grabbed his wand off the counter. He walked to the gaudy purple and green-framed mirror they had put up next to the front door and winked at his reflection. "Merlin I get better looking every time I pass this thing! Let's go!"

Fred stood up and looked around for his wand, spotting it on the mantle above the fireplace. He walked over to grab it when green flames shot up in the grate and he was knocked over by the person barreling through into the apartment. His breath left him in a whoosh as both he and their guest fell to the floor. He tried to suck in a breath but got a mouthful of curly brown hair instead. Uhoh, he thought, realizing who was on top of him. And whoa! Even though she was tense from anger and the fact that she had just fallen through a fireplace, Hermione felt incredibly soft and warm on top of him. And the soft mounds that were currently squashed against his chest, when had those grown in?

"Fred Weasley if you don't let me go this instant I am going to hex you so badly that George won't even recognize you!"

Fred shot a panicked look to his twin, who stared right back and promptly apparated out of the flat. Deciding to be brave, Fred unwrapped his arms from the witch squirming against him and both got to their feet.

"Hermione I'm wounded!" Fred exclaimed, putting a hand up to his heart. "What have I done to offend thee, fair maiden?" He secretly hoped that some of his customary humor would diffuse the anger he could see radiating from her eyes. I guess she _isn't_ accustomed to passion filled daydreams, he thought just the tiniest bit disappointed.

"As if you didn't know! What on earth did you drug me with tonight?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

Fred recognized this stance from watching her fight with Ron. This was Hermione getting ready for a real row, not simply a prefectly lecture. Maybe he should try to get her out of anger mode, and change his tactics a little bit. He stepped a little closer to her, invading her personal space just a little. "Just answer me one question," he requested in a husky tone, "did you like it?"

Hermione gasped, and gulped a little, the memory of her recent romantic encounter with this man causing her heart to speed up. She could feel the angry tension draining out of her, only to be replaced by a different sort of energy as the full implications of his question sank in. She felt a blush rising in her cheeks as she involuntarily took a step back.

"That, that is not the issue here Fred!" She attempted a stern tone, but her damn hormones got in the way of that, and she sounded a little too breathless for her own comfort. She could see a slight smirk forming on Fred's admittedly adorable face, and some of her anger came back. "You slipped something into my dinner, and I have told you and George time and again that I am not one of your guinea pigs! I am not a first year that you can pay to test your products, or Ron who is brave enough to fight Bellatrix Lestrange but for some reason won't stand up to you two! Now I am expecting an apology and an explanation for the vision of the two of us cavorting that you planted in my head and your stern promise that this won't happen again!"

Fred had to fight a grin from forming as he listened to Hermione rant. He could see why Ron had had a crush on her during school; she really was magnificent when something got her dander up. Her honey colored eyes flashed almost golden, and her cheeks turned a charming pink color when she yelled. And her hair, ohhh man, why hadn't he noticed that her hair was just begging to be grabbed by a man leaning in for a kiss. It was like a chocolate nimbus swirling around her head, exaggerating every point she made as it stuck out madly, fighting her attempts to secure it behind her ears. Shit! No! Focus, you need to come up with something really quick here Fred! Explain, don't fantasize about how much you want to hold her hair out of the way as you snog her senseless!

"Uhhh, yeah about that Hermione. See George and I had an idea for an expansion of one of our Patented Daydream Charms, making them a bit more, shall we say adult themed. The way we changed the formula around though means that the person taking the pill will fantasize about the person who made it. In your incredibly lucky case, you got a charm created by yours truly, and since the only other females at dinner were my mum and my sister, you were the best candidate for testing. And no, I know George and I are close, but a sexual fantasy about my twin is not an extreme that even I would go to for a wheeze." There, clinical, reasonable, she can't find fault with that one… right?

Hermione listened to Fred's explanation without interruption, keeping her arms crossed tight across her chest. She felt an unexpected pang of hurt that the only reason he had chosen her as a test subject was the simple fact of her availability at the dinner table.

Fred watched the hurt pass through her eyes and mentally kicked himself. No girl wants to hear that she was simply the last resort. Come on you idiot! Get her mad again. He cast his eyes down a little ashamed, but got distracted by the swell of her breasts, more pronounced with her arms crossed tightly beneath them. No, lock it up Weasley!

"I guess that is a reasonable answer," she returned. "But do not use me like that without my consent again please. I appreciate a good bit of magic as much as the next person but really, a little warning would be nice! Although, I do have to admit, it was, um, good."

Fred's head snapped immediately up as she uttered that last statement. "Good huh? Well we Weasleys have a reputation to uphold. Shag like bunnies and all that, I would hope it's, what did you say, _good_." He smirked, emphasizing the last word.

"No, I, I uh… Merlin Fred that isn't what I meant!" Hermione sputtered, embarrassed by the unintentional double entendre. "The magic! The spell and potions work that you put in! It was impressive. That is all I was commenting on!" She felt her cheeks flaming again, and spun quickly away to hide her face. Unfortunately her momentum carried her into the edge of the mantel and her head bounced off of the stone with a resounding CRACK! She fell to the floor with an agonized moan.

"Shit Hermione!" Fred ran to the girl on the floor grabbing his wand and cursing. He hadn't meant to get her so flustered! "Hermione! Are you alright? Answer me!"

Hermione groaned and brought her hands up to the knot forming on her forehead. She could feel tears in her eyes and her head hurt like the devil, but she knew it wasn't anything serious. "Ugh, I'm fine, just get me some ice or a pain potion would you?"

"Yeah we have some downstairs in the lab. I will be right back! Don't move!"

Fred ran into the hallway and down the stairs. He wrenched to lab door open and grabbed a blue vial from the top of his workbench. Running upstairs, he burst back into the apartment and found that Hermione had already conjured a towel full of ice and was holding it to her head. "Here," he said, handing her the bottle as he conjured a glass of water as well. "This potion has a nasty taste to it you are going to need this too."

Hermione rearranged the ice and downed the vial of potion while he spoke. She reached for the water and gave him a quizzical look.

"Fred what are you talking about? This tastes rather sweet. I hardly need water to wash it do----."

Fred looked on in horror as Hermione's eyes seemed to glaze over and her words cut off. He looked a little closer at the vial in her hand and saw the interlocking W's on the label, as well as the bright pink star that he and George put on all products that were still in trial. "Noooooo!" He moaned, belated realizing that instead of a vial of the general pain potion that he kept on his desk, he had just handed Hermione an entire bottle of the new Daydream Charm formula, the equivalent of ten pills. Fred could only watch ad wait until Hermione came out of the spell, and boy was he not looking forward to her reaction when she woke up.

A.N.: Hey guys sorry for cutting off right before the good stuff, but no worries I have plans! Also, if anyone would like to beta read for me, I am not entirely sure what that entails, but I would love another set of eyes looking over my chapters. Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione was floating. Her limbs felt buoyant, like they were suspended in clouds, and were slow to respond to her commands. Slowly, languorously, she lifted her hand, just to make sure she could. Eyes closed, she lightly traced her face, reacquainting herself with her features. Wide forehead, right now smooth, absent of a frown of concentration or frustration; delicately arched eyebrows, far lighter than the mop of curls on her head; high cheekbones that narrowed to her gently rounded but admittedly stubborn chin. She continued back up the center of her face, lightly running a finger over her mouth, lower lip just a touch too wide and full for the upper, and up over the pert tip of her nose. Having reassured herself that she was in fact, still herself, Hermione opened her eyes.

She was lying in a tub as large as the one in the prefect's bathroom, but this one was far more decadent. A thick, rich layer of bubbles surrounded her, and steam escaped the foam in tendrils, wafting an exotic spicy scent to her. She gazed through the haze and saw an Arabian bath chamber, tiled in a blue that could only be described as lapis lazuli, gold and gems winking at her in the shimmering light. An intricately designed brazier glowed in one corner of the room and Hermione realized that the deliciously exotic scent teasing her nostrils was frankincense. Sconces decorated in the same manner as the brazier dotted the walls and in their dim light the colors of the gorgeous room glowed. At the far end of the rectangular tub, a gauzy green curtain waved in a pointed archway, a light breeze teasing the ends of the translucent cloth.

Suddenly, the cloth was drawn aside, and Fred stepped into the arch. As Hermione watched, he took in the beauty of the room, gaze finally resting on her. A slow, lazy grin stretched across his face and she felt an answering smile, almost a smirk on her own.

"You look lonely in there all by yourself. I think I'll have to do something about that." Fred was walking slowly toward her as he said this, hands resting at the hemline of his simple green cotton t-shirt.

"Yes, and I fear you are quite inappropriately dressed." Hermione moved to the tiled edge of the bath, and drank in the sight of his form-fitting shirt, light blue jeans and carelessly swept back hair. His casual outfit was at odds with the ambiance of the room, but not really the source of her annoyance with his clothes.

Reading her mind, Fred drew the shirt up over his head, revealing a set of broad shoulders and a toned chest, pale, but dusted with freckles from the sun. He kicked off his leather sandals, and quickly threw off his pants and boxers, leaving Hermione only a moment to appreciate the sight of his naked body before he eased himself into the foamy water beside her.

Without a word, Fred drew Hermione to him, and his lips crashed down upon hers. She felt surrounded by him, his arms like two bands around her back, his chest a living wall that was somehow hotter than the water around them, and his mouth pressing down on hers in ferocious hunger. He drew his hand up the smooth curve of her spine, stopping only when it reached her hair and tangled itself in her curls. He gently pulled her head back, giving him better access to her mouth as his tongue slipped past her lips and plundered. Hermione moaned, as they tasted one another, tongues twisting and sliding slowly against each other. She stepped a little closer, her foam-covered nipples just grazing his chest, and gasped at the slippery sensation that the water and bubbles provided.

She could feel Fred tighten his hold on her hair as she did this, and was rewarded when his other hand slid over her shoulder and found her breast. He molded the soft mound, his grip firm despite the water, squeezing and caressing with the same unhurried attention he was giving their kiss. He traced a finger over her nipple, standing proudly after his ministrations and lavished attention on her other breast. Hermione felt heat pooling low in her stomach as he continued, and wondered if there was a cord connecting her nipples to her core, as sparks flew back and forth between them, jumping each time he moved his hand until a trail of fire blazed within her.

Moaning and nearly aching with the need for more contact, Hermione moved her own hands over his shoulders and chest, and then twined them around his neck, pulling herself flush against him, glorying in the feeling of her breasts crushed against his chest, the delicious contrast of hard and soft. Her legs slipped and slid around his until they fell into place around his hips, and his arousal pressed against the taut skin of her abdomen. He slid his hands up and down her thighs, stopping now and again to cup her arse and press her firmly against his erection, groaning at the feeling. She locked her heels around him, urging him to take their embrace to a different level.

Fred moved over to a recessed bench on the wall of the pool, never once breaking their heated kiss as he gently placed Hermione on it. She reveled in the feeling of the smooth tile beneath her, so different from the hard warmth of the man in front of her. At his urging, she released her legs from around him, and gasped into his mouth as she felt his hard length slide into her, filling her inch by inch. He slowly pulled out, almost entirely, then thrust back inside of her, creating a friction that sent more sparks flying through her. Over and over he plunged into her, setting a pace that she matched, using her legs around him to bring him back to her each time. As the crescendo built inside of her, Hermione tightened her grip around his neck, grasping his wet, red locks as she tried to hold on. His thrusts came faster and she felt her head drop back, moaning and gasping for breath as his hand came between them and pleasured her. Then the world shattered around her in a surge of heat, a fireball exploding behind her eyes as she cried out, and heard an answering gasp as Fred shuddered inside of her.

He collapsed against her, then slowly moved his weight onto the tiled bench, drawing her back into the circle of his arms. Her breasts slipped against his chest once more, and she moaned as their overly sensitized tips added to the aftershocks of her orgasm. She closed her eyes, and then, once more, she was floating in a fog...


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione felt the haze in her head begin to clear, and her senses slowly sharpen. It was the smell that penetrated the fog first, and she focused on the familiar scents of old leather, parchment and ink, the tang of lemon polish and sun warmed wood underlying the dusty smell that old books retained. Eyes fluttering open, she realized that she had, once again, fallen asleep at her table in the Hogwarts Library. Lifting her head, she took in the high shelves of the Restricted Section. She was in the back corner where she often worked, almost surrounded on all sides by books, the perfect hidden nook where she could not be disturbed as she studied or wrote.

She thrust her hands over and behind her head in a stretch, stifling a groan as the stiff muscles in her neck and shoulders moved for the first time in hours. It wouldn't do for Madame Pince to kick her out for a bit of noise when she was busy working. Or, to catch her snoozing in the stacks- she'd be kicked out of the Restricted Section for sure!

She could hear the usual sounds of students working around her, papers shuffling, chairs creaking, the occasional loud yawn. It was yet another reason she liked this spot so much, she could hear others and sense that she was not alone, but was hidden away so that she couldn't be bothered by them asking her for help when she needed to just get her own things done.

Ready to resume reading, Hermione grabbed a well- worn leather tome from the stack in front of her on the table, relishing the feel of the smooth cover and the comforting weight of the thing. She gasped as she read the spine, almost dropping the book on that table. The _Kama Sutra_? Why on _earth_ was there a copy of that on her desk? And why would Hogwarts, even in the Restricted Section, have a copy of such an inflammatory book where hormone crazed teenagers could get at it? It must have been a joke that Ron or Dean or Seamus had played on her, letting her know that they had discovered her spot and reminding her, again, that her self imposed code of no dating, only studying, was not alright with them. Hermione firmly pushed the book aside and reached for another one in her stack.

Opening it to the cover page, she groaned. _The Joys of Sex_. Looking at all of the spines turned her way, she could see similar titles, some even with little illustrations underneath them! Great, the menaces had replaced all of her books and she would never get her work done! She noticed that one of the books in the lower half of the stack seemed to be glowing. After the incident with Hagrid's biting text, she knew she shouldn't touch a book that acted oddly, but it was too intriguing. Against her better judgment, Hermione lifted the pile of sexual manuals and how-to books off of the now incandescent book. Its cover glowed like the moon, an opal color that shimmered with magic, and pulled Hermione to it with an undeniable force. She opened the book, unable to resist any longer.

Slowly she turned the pages, utterly absorbed in the illustrations that dominated each page. Men and women engaged in a myriad of sensual situations, from the relative innocence of a couple waltzing on the dance floor of a bygone ballroom, to flagrant and detailed drawings of couples in the throes, writhing and moving as only magical pictures could. Blushing, but unable to turn away, Hermione soldiered on, growing more and more flustered with each page that she turned. Tilting her head in confusion at some of the positions she saw on the pages, feeling heat pool in her belly at an engraving of a man lavishing pleasure on a woman with his mouth, she barely realized that someone had breached her secret sanctum.

She started when she felt a hand on her shoulder, blushing even more furiously when she noticed whose it was. Fred Weasley grinned down at her, took in the red of her face, the wideness of her eyes and her general flustered appearance and a look of concern flashed across his face, only to be replaced with an utterly evil smirk when he glanced at the picture she had been studying.

"So there is a reason this is called the Restricted Section. I'd always wondered, but my reputation forbade me from actually exploring for myself. Not even the legendary Weasley charm could convince McGonagall to write George and I a pass." Fred leaned a little closer, examining the moving picture, taking in the flush on the woman's face, as her partner brought her to orgasm, and hauled her upright, pushing her against what looked surprisingly like a bookshelf.

Hermione let out a garbled sound, halfway between a protest and a moan, and buried her face in her hands in mortification. Of all the people to find her hiding spot and when she was reading that? Wait, why was Fred even in the Library? He had left Hogwarts the year before after the truly remarkable routing of that vile Umbridge woman.

A second large, warm hand came down on her shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. Fred slid his hands up and down her upper arms in a brisk manner that was in fact the opposite of comforting as Hermione could feel his warm breath tickle her ear.

"If you were curious, all you had to do was ask love," he breathed into her ear. "Why look something up in a book when you have the real thing?" The hands moving on her arms slowed into what could only be called a caress, so that she could feel the heat of his palms and the strength of his fingers through the thick wool of her uniform's sweater and buttoned up shirt underneath. Spine stiffening Hermione turned her head to ask what he thought he was doing and felt a pair of firm lips against her own generous mouth. Her eyes fluttered shut as Fred pulled her chair around to face him, knelt in front of her and gave her lips his full attention.

She tentatively placed her hands on his shoulders as he pressed butterfly light kisses on her. She could feel him smile as he found the corner of her wide mouth, settling there for a moment. His tongue tickled the sensitive spot then traced the seam of her lips delicately probing until she surrendered and opened to him.

His hands found the silky smooth skin of her legs, caressing the small expanse he found between the top of her knee socks and the hem of her pleated skirt. Hermione felt tingles run up and down her spine as both his kiss and hands grew bolder. He slanted his mouth over hers, lips firming with intent and she felt herself melt as she acquiesced to his demands. His daring fingers quested beneath the edge of her skirt, the calluses on his Quidditch roughened hands exciting her beyond reason. She let out a sigh of pleasure and his exploration of her mouth intensified. He growled possessively, drinking in her sweetness, plundering her secret corners and undiscovered depths. Their tongues tangled and she slid her hands into his hair, tumbling the thick locks in her eagerness to touch him, effect him like he was entrancing her.

This time he groaned, and used his hands to part her thighs so that he could move between them and bring their bodies together. Hermione gasped at the sudden press of his hard chest against hers, the strange but oh so thrilling contrast between hard and soft, male and female, and gave herself up to their embrace, melting in feminine submission against the firm wall of his muscles. She felt his body react to that, his muscles seized and he released the predator he had been holding in check. Hands under her skirt tightened possessively around her hips, and her roughly pulled her to the edge of her chair, crushing her to him.

Hermione felt her head fall back, offering her neck to his ministrations and he gladly complied, lips cruising over the delicate skin under her jaw, nipping then soothing the sensitive area. His tongue traced the whorl of her ear and he pressed a scalding kiss to the pressure point right behind it, causing a shock of sensation that went straight to her belly. His hands found the waistband of her panties, delved beneath them so that his hands were filled with her sweet skin, the roundness of her hips a perfect match for his wide grip. She felt an ache deep within her and shifted restlessly against him, trying to soothe the clamoring inside. Sensing her need, Fred urged her up out of the chair, separating them only a moment so that he could sweep the piles of books and parchment off of the table.

Hermione gasped at his actions, reeling senses just barely recognizing that he was destroying school property in his haste. She opened her mouth to reprimand him but he placed a single, long finger against her lips.

"Shh, this is the library and students are studying. You can't make a sound- wouldn't want to disturb them with lectures, reprimands, or, … moans."

Hermione shuddered, sheer desire swamping her, overwhelming her pique. He swept her into his arms and placed her on the now clear desk, stepping between her spread knees to return his mouth to hers, stifling any sounds she might have made. He drew back, gently and looked directly into her eyes, hazed a misty golden color in her passion.

"Now, about that book you were studying. You know there's no better way to learn something than to practice." Not waiting for a response, Fred's questing fingers skimmed back underneath her skirt caressing her silky thighs, swirling in small circles as he made his way, inch by torturous inch, to her center. He slid his fingers up and down along the damp heat he could feel through her knickers, adding pressure to satisfy her unintelligible gasps of need.

He returned his mouth to hers, whispering before he made contact, "Is this the only way I can keep you quiet? So much more fun than a _Silencio_." His tongue and his fingers swirled in the same, perfect, insistent rhythm, leaving Hermione whimpering at the onslaught of sensation. Her hips began to buck involuntarily against Fred's hand, and he took that as permission to flip her skirt up and divest her of her undergarments, quickly bringing his finger back to her and sliding it into her slick folds. She moaned at the delicious intrusion, rocking against his hand, begging for more.

"Now, which lesson shall we attempt today? I'm partial to the scenario that has me throwing you up against the bookshelf, or maybe just bending you over this table you seem to love so much. I don't know of any red blooded Hogwarts male who hasn't seen you studying here and wanted to just grab you and make you look at him with the same intensity as you do your books. Just like you're looking at me _now_!"

With that word, Hermione's world exploded, and only the lightning fast reflexes of the ex-Gryffindor Beater kept her from shouting his name in the middle of the Restricted Section, as he clamped his other hand over her mouth just in time. She slumped against his solid chest, head on his shoulders as she attempted to find her way back to earth.

But Fred wasn't finished with her. Hauling her up against him, she struggled to keep her legs beneath her as he resumed his skilled assault against her lips. Arms locked around his neck, she pulled herself flush against him, body to body. She could feel the hot, insistent length of him pressing into her. Feeling deliciously wanton, and suffused with a boldness only a well pleasured woman can command she ground her hips against his, relishing in the shudder she felt go through him. He grabbed her waist, then lower, molding her against his hardness.

With a groan, he wrenched himself away, leaving her feeling utterly bereft and confused. Head swimming with both desire and bewilderment, she opened her eyes and mouth to ask what he was doing. She was rewarded with the sight of Fred fumbling with the fly of his trousers, belt already undone.

Before she could comment, he freed himself, and returned to her. He backed them up until she could feel the ridged spines of the shelved books digging into her back. Fred captured both of her wrists above her head, and brought one hand back down to her hem. Hermione widened her stance, the pictures from that magical book burned into her brain, telling her what to do. In what seemed like one motion, he flipped her skirt up and pressed his erection against her belly. Coating a finger with her wetness he primed himself to enter her, nudging himself against her opening. Hermione twisted against the iron grasp of his hand, desperate to touch him, desperate to feel him as he teased her swollen folds, denying her the sweet friction she craved.

Lips hovering just a fraction away from hers, she felt more than heard him growl, "Tell me what you want."

Whimpering, she managed to gasp out, "You!" and was rewarded as he thrust into her, bringing their bodies together. As he pounded into her, he covered her mouth with his own, stifling both her cries and his, the need to remain quiet driving them crazy. The intensity of their passion burned bright and Hermione could feel herself coming closer and closer to the edge. With one impossibly deep thrust she felt herself clamp around him, letting go with a strangled cry. Fred spent himself inside of her, groaning against the soft skin of her neck, muting the sound of his completion.

The sated couple slowly sank down to the floor, and let their bliss suffuse them.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

It was the annoying pinging noise that woke her up. Trying to ignore the periodic sharp rattles that were disturbing her slumber, Hermione simply pulled her comforter up over her head, attempting to snuggle back into sleep. It was not to be though, and the noise continued to penetrate her warm nest of covers, insistent on drawing her out of bed.

Hermione grudgingly emerged, glancing over to see that Ginny was still fast asleep. The lucky girl had inherited the Weasley talent for sleeping through a tornado. Looking around the room, Hermione saw only the deep darkness that meant it was sometime in the middle of the night. Another sharp crack drew her attention to the window, and, with a firm grip on her wand, she stealthily crept over.

Keeping her head low, she gazed into the inky black night, trying to make out shapes in the darkness. There was a low light coming through the kitchen windows, and she could just make out the silhouette of a man, who was engaged in tossing stones from the garden at her window.

Immediately guessing that this was Fred, Hermione lit her wand with a quick _Lumos_, alerting him to her wakefulness, and presence at the window. Fred made a series of elaborate motions with his hands that served only to confuse Hermione, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a silvery shape spill out of his wand and fly up to her. The Patronus, shaped like a large dog, pranced around her in a playful manner before whispering "Come down!," in her ear. Nodding so that Fred could see her through the window, she grabbed her Chinese silk robe, an indulgence that she did not share with many people, belted it loosely over her tank top and cotton shorts, and slipped out of Ginny's bedroom.

Hermione quietly made her way down the creaky old stairs and breathed a sigh of relief when she made it to the kitchen. The banked fire gave off a comforting light and warmth that was not unwelcome despite the balmy breeze coming in from the open windows. Deciding that she didn't have enough time to make a quick cup of tea, she eased the door to the garden open, and stepped into the shadow filled garden.

She was immediately swept up into a bear hug that could only come from a Weasley, and Fred lifted her off her feet, twirling her about as if she weighed nothing. Giggling she returned the embrace, melting against him when she felt her feet steady on the ground again.

"Not that I don't enjoy being greeted this way, but what are you doing?" She asked, her head nestled against his chest. "It's the middle of the night and you woke me up. I happened to be having a glorious dream."

"About me I hope." He murmured, resting his chin on the top of her head. She loved how she fit perfectly against him when they stood like this, although she was working on a slight levitation charm so that he wouldn't have to strain his neck so much when he bent to kiss her.

"Well," she began in a syrupy sweet tone that rarely came out of her mouth. "I was walking alone in an enchanted forest, moonlight filtering through and lighting up fairy glades and listening to the songs of nymphs and sprites, when a knight in shining armor swept me off my feet. We were about to gallop off to his castle and live happily ever!" She gushed.

Fred snorted disbelievingly and stepped back slightly so he could look at her face. She grinned up at him and he very slowly brought his head down to hers. She closed her eyes, and tiled her head up a bit, waiting for his kiss.

"Okay Lavender," he said an inch from her ear.

Hermione's honey brown eyes snapped open in fury and she let out an enraged shriek at his outrageous comment. Fred was quicker than her however, and darted out of her arms, running toward the Burrow's ragged orchard. Hermione chased after him, robe flying out behind her and a stream of disparagement falling from her lips. She was losing ground however, and had to slow as she neared the edge of the trees fearing she would hurt herself on low lying branches and sharp twigs. She continued forward but was suddenly jerked back by her robe. Hermione turned around to see that her beautiful robe was twisted and caught around a rather frightening tree branch. She tugged at it gently, and the fabric did not give an inch. Why, she thought furiously to herself, did she leave her wand in the bedroom? Drat!

"Fred!," she whisper shrieked, "Come out here now! I don't have my wand and I'm stuck!" Not to mention a little spooked by her surrounds. Although she had spent many summer weeks exploring the Burrow's grounds, a barely tended orchard in the dead of night was not the most calming location to be stuck in. The moon shone through the latticework of branches above her, but its comforting light was cancelled out by the random rustlings of branches around her and the small animal sounds that always permeated a bit of woods. "Fred!" She yelled a little louder this time, letting her fears get the better of her.

"Hermione! Sorry love, I didn't realize you'd gotten stuck!" Fred appeared by her side, and set to work on freeing her from the branch's grasp. Only after she was released and jumped into his arms did he notice that she had been spooked. "No," he said in disbelief. "No way the fearless and brave Hermione Granger, the most brilliant witch of the age, was scared in the crappiest orchard of trees in Britain?"

"I didn't have my wand!" Hermione snapped back, punctuating her remark with a sharp shove to Fred's chest. He tried to balance by grabbing her shoulders and the pair of them tumbled to the ground. Hermione felt her breath leave her in a whoosh and realized Fred had had it worse as she was now lying on top of the rather breathless Weasley twin.

He coughed a few times and wheezed. "Well I had planned on us getting into this position at some point this evening…" He gasped out a laugh, and the pair struggled to sit up. Fred backed himself up against a tree and settled Hermione in the space between his legs. She snuggled back contentedly and waited for her heart to stop pounding, and her breathing to return to normal. After a few minutes she turned in Fred's arms, conscious of the slither of the patterned silk across her shoulders. She grew bolder from the sensation, and knelt before him, watching his pupils dilate in the moonlight.

"Not so scared any more, eh Hermione?" She answered him by pressing her lips against his, and pushing her body flush against him. She felt his arms slide around her, caressing her back, and pulling her even closer to him. She felt a rumble of pleasure reverberate through his chest and into hers and shivered at the feeling. His tongue snuck into her mouth and she shivered anew. They simply kissed for a long time, leisurely, slowly, just enjoying the intimacy, the connection in the deserted orchard.

After a while Fred moved his lips down the side of her neck, changing the tenor or their embrace as he trailed fire over her skin. Hermione made a sort of strangled moan and dropped her head back allowing him better access. One of his arms snaked up her back, his hand cradling her head as he ministered to her neck. He knelt himself, and laid her down on the grass at the base of their apple tree, lips never stopping their assault on her senses.

Hermione could do nothing more than make inarticulate sounds and flutter her eyelashes in an attempt to open them. She managed to drag them open when Fred's lips left her skin. She opened her mouth to protest and saw her love reverently untying the sash to her robe, brow furrowed in anticipation as he unwrapped her. With a satisfied smile, she laid her head back down on the grass and was rewarded when she felt his warm hands caressing her through the thin cotton of her sleeping shirt, the only barrier between their skins. He propped himself up next to her, bodies laying side by side as he paid homage to her breasts. With a light pressure he squeezed, and watched in delight as her satiny skin strained the thin fabric and low neckline of her tank. She grinned in delight as he pounced on her, reveling in the feel of his weight now on top of her, where he belonged. With his hands trapped between them, rolling and molding her breasts at his pleasure, she thrust her hands into his hair and pulled his mouth back down to hers. Before their lips met, she met his piercing blue gaze with her own golden one and the pure heat she saw there made her gasp. He ruthlessly took her mouth, plundering it to its depths, and Hermione answered him with everything in her. She wrapped her legs around him, trying to squeeze every last bit of space between them away, and was rewarded with the feel of his desire rampant against her.

She ground her hips against him and it was the work of a minute for him to magically divest them of their clothes and mutter a contraception spell. The feel of the magic sinking into her abdomen added to the champagne feeling already there, and as Fred thrust into her, Hermione felt the bubbles begin to coalesce into the wonder that he always brought her. Perhaps it was the moonlight, perhaps it was the release of her momentary fear, but their coupling was swift and wild, tension mounting quickly before it exploded into a glorious sunburst. With cries of abandon, the couple found their bliss together, collapsing under the leafy canopy of their apple tree.

Fred was frantic. There really was no other way to describe it. He had no idea how Hermione, or anyone, for that matter, would react to that much of the daydream potion. Sure he and George had tested things, but there had been a reason they only had the charms last half an hour! And if he damaged Hermione Granger, Hermione, the smartest witch Hogwarts had seen in ages, the girl who had been the mastermind behind Harry's saving the world, well he might as well just snap his wand now.

He groaned again as he looked at the girl he had moved to the couch. He had put pillows under he head and feet, an ice pack on her brow and had done what he thought was chafing to her wrists. But nothing had revived her at all. She hadn't made a sound since she had gulped down the vial of daydream potion. She was sweating despite the ice pack, and would periodically thrash around. When that happened Fred would hold her down, throwing his body down on hers so that she wouldn't fall off the couch or hurt herself even more. And when she finally stilled, Fred would breathe a sigh of relief and cautiously lift himself off of her, peering anxiously at her troubled face, ready to spring back into position if, and when, she started off again.

After a particularly bad thrashing fit, Fred panicked and sent his Patronus after George, only having time to scream SOS to the silvery dog before he had to tend to Hermione again. He desperately wanted to Floo call his mother or St. Mungo's but was too afraid to leave Hermione's side for more than a moment.

As he looked down at her nervously, waiting for her to start writhing again, he started to notice, not for the first time that day, that Hermione really was quite pretty. Even now, when he was scared to death that he might have turned her into a vegetable, he couldn't help but stare at her face, her full mouth, delicate brows and a chin that looked stubborn even when she was unconscious. And then that body! Fred didn't know how he had missed that at school, maybe it was a more recent development, or she had just been hiding it under knobbly woolen knee socks and Hogwarts robes? Regardless, Hermione had turned into a deliciously curved young woman, and her current summer attire, shorts and a rather pretty t-shirt of a wonderfully thin and clingy material, did nothing to hide that. In fact….

NO! Fred thought. You probably just poisoned this girl and all you can do is stare at her perfectly outlined and oh so luscious NO! Damn it! Fred began to pull his hair out in frustration. Focus Weasley! Focus!

Then he heard the first sound Hermione had made in what had to be almost two hours. It sounded like a groan and Fred hurriedly knelt by her face, cradling it in his hands, willing her to come back "Hermione! Hermione! Wake up. Please wake up!"

Hermione only groaned again, and began to move again. Only this time, she was more wriggling than thrashing. Fred found that his eyes were drawn southward to her impressive chest yet again. She moaned, and her mouth stayed open. Fred yanked his eyes back up to her face, fascinated by her open mouth. The sounds coming out of her didn't sound like they were that painful, in fact he could have sworn they were moans of an entirely different nature.

That enticing sound issued forth from Hermione's generous mouth again, this time accompanied by a most interesting undulation that thrust her hips up off the couch and made her generous assets bounce in a movement that utterly enthralled Fred. The moans began coming more and more frequently, and that delightful action along with it much to Fred's delight. He knelt near her head spellbound at what was arguably the sexiest thing he had ever seen in his life. He felt all the blood rush to his groin, painfully aroused at the nymph on the couch. He let out a moan himself when hers started to crescendo. And then he heard a word that both relieved his concern over Hermione's health and ratcheted the tension in his body up to unprecedented levels. With a final shudder and jiggle of her glorious breasts, Hermione nearly sat up and yelled "FRED!" and collapsed back onto the couch in a boneless slump, a catlike smile of satisfaction crossing gracing her lips.

With the trademark Weasley smirk on his own face, Fred sent a new Patronus message to George telling him not to worry, unbuttoned his now very tight trousers and settled back to enjoy the show.

Author's Note: Hey guys. First off HUGE apologies for the inexcusable amount of time it has taken me to post this. I just finished my first semester of law school and had NO time for fluff! Anyway, I hope to crank out a few chapters over the holiday break and I promise to do better next semester. In the meantime, I apologize if this isn't up to my usual standards, and hope that those of you who asked for it enjoyed the glimpse into Fred's POV. Happy New Year to all! Resolution: More HP fanfic in 2011!


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